


A Confession

by LadyBergamot



Series: Tea For Two [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Edeleth, F/F, Femleth, First Kiss, Fluff, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBergamot/pseuds/LadyBergamot
Summary: Despite her resolve to build a new world, Edelgard finds herself longing for the past. Wandering through the empty halls of Garreg Mach, she wonders if she could finally have a chance at the dance she never had.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Tea For Two [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631908
Comments: 13
Kudos: 237





	A Confession

Whenever Edelgard closed her eyes, she could hear the music again.

The notes chimed softly like the comb of a music box wound through a quiet evening. All it took was a step to the right, and her body swayed with the turns of the waltz. Two steps around, and her arms clung tightly to the ghostly frame of a faceless partner – the outlines of their features fading like a distant memory. One more step, and the music swelled in her ears, as if the orchestra had managed to live through five years of web-strewn halls, crumbling cornices, and broken-down ceilings.

If Edelgard tried harder, she could picture her clothes as they were: an officers’ academy uniform with gold trimming. It used to fit snugly around her limbs, with the un-snug parts billowing through the swift choreography of her movements. For a moment, it was as if she could forget the train of red velvet that draped over her shoulders – its cumbersome weight and gaudy, lush fabric. Back then, her hair was still untied yet nevertheless kempt. She remembered how it flowed like silver silk with the music’s ebb and flow.

Suddenly, the present had become the memory, and the memory grew alive with each pulsing beat of the faraway song. The evening of the ball played out in her mind just as it did five years ago. So long as she heard the music, she could live and forget. What were the sorrows of war and a fleeting dream compared to the whimsical tune of a waltz?

“Impressive,” a voice snapped Edelgard from her trance.

A series of claps – loud and distant – rang through the barren hall.

Edelgard stopped with a gasp. She whipped around to the familiar voice, letting the daydream fall apart as her figure – frozen mid-dance – stiffened with dread at having been caught. Color rose to Edelgard’s cheeks as she caught sight of the professor’s encroaching silhouette.

“How long have you been watching?” she asked, barely able to conceal her churlish mood.

Byleth leaned against the threshold of one of the balcony doors, biting back a smile. “Not long.”

This wasn’t the first time Byleth caught her former pupil off-guard. It wasn’t intentional, of course. Despite Garreg Mach’s countless rooms and vast chambers, the world enclosed by its dilapidated walls was surprisingly small. Their makeshift military base offered little sanctuary to the wandering few, aimless and friendless in their solitary bouts of nostalgia. And on _that_ particular evening, the former dance hall happened to attract more than _one_ sentimental fancy.

“Still too long for my liking,” Edelgard muttered under her breath. She let a few awkward moments pass before averting her gaze, focusing instead on the washed-out checkered patterns of the marble floor. “Well, what is it professor?” she tried again, failing to soften her tone. “Did you need me for something?”

For her part, Byleth shook her head, unable to shake off the self-same grin tugging at her lips.

“I came here for some peace,” the former mercenary replied. She languidly pushed herself off the wall and ambled towards Edelgard. Something wistful seemed to pull at her smile, fading back to a tightlipped frown as Byleth paused before her emperor. “But it seems you beat me to it.”

 _Peace_ , thought Edelgard with a bite of her lip, _such a strange word_.

“Have I?” she retorted. “I find that ‘peace’ is rather hard to come by these days.”

Around them, the waning light of dusk crept from the horizon, peeking through the broken stained-glass windows. Shadows grew with the fading crimson of the sunset, and before long the empty hall darkened with bluish twilight. Byleth stood where a sliver of crescent moonlight rippled through the floor. Inching towards her sullen emperor, she could only reply with mirthless laughter, pleasantly surprised by the rather unexpected use of wordplay.

“You’re getting better at them,” she said blithely.

Edelgard looked up at her in surprise. Her mouth parted to form an inaudible ‘oh?’

“Jokes,” she clarified.

Something in Edelgard’s dumbfounded expression left her former professor feeling a little sheepish, prompting Byleth to reflexively fidget. She let one hand tug at the other arm’s elbow. The awkward pause left her aimlessly scratching with the tip of her thumb as a pout crept on her lips. “You’re getting better at making jokes,” she explained further – in case the first time didn’t do the trick.

Yet the somewhat backhanded compliment neither offended nor pleased. Edelgard could only nod her head, letting a wan smile soften her features from the unspoken strains of her day. “So it seems,” Edelgard murmured. Her nose wrinkled in thoughtful contemplation. “To be honest, I wasn’t even aware ‘joking’ was an area I needed to improve on.”

Her candor left Byleth’s stomach sinking with regret. She instinctively held out her hand, seeking to correct their suddenly downtrodden mood. “That’s not what I-“

“Oh, it’s fine.” Edelgard shook her head. “In fact, I find these sorts of… comments,” she paused, though not without a suppressed chortle, “refreshing.”

Puzzled, Byleth raised a brow.

Edelgard immediately read her confusion. She briefly blinked back, grinning subtly in momentary delight. “Yes, refreshing,” she repeated. “In these times of war,” she continued, leaving a sigh where her words trailed off, “I find myself thinking of the past. Or rather… I find myself _looking_ for the past.”

Byleth’s eyes followed the other woman as she sauntered away. Outside, moonlight waxed and waned with the passing of clouds, playing with the shadows latticed over the two figures. Her eyes traced the outlines of Edelgard’s back, watching how the red velvet of her cape dimmed to a shadowy pink in the darkness.

“But somehow, with _you_ -” Edelgard stopped before the opening of a shattered wall. “It’s like I’m that girl again.” She hunched forward, clasping her gloved hands together as she turned her crestfallen gaze to the marbled floor. “Make no mistake, professor,” she tacked on sternly, “I have no regrets, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss any of it. Playing at school, hoping for the future…-” Her voice trailed off just as Edelgard craned her neck to peer at her professor. “- Being happy,” she finished.

Byleth felt her heart squeeze when her eyes met Edelgard’s – limpid in their somber hues. The gleam of moonlight left in the emperor’s gaze in a watery sheen, as if tears were welling with the weight of her already bygone words. “It’s not too late you know.” Her feet moved quicker than her thoughts, flashing to Edelgard’s side. Byleth laid her hands on Edelgard’s interlocked fingers, drawing them closer. “You can be happy again,” she said. “You _will_ be happy again.”

Edelgard didn’t withdraw from the other’s touch. Neither did she find herself brightening with red-tinged embarrassment, as she so often found whenever they fell into yet another intimate predicament.

Somehow, nightfall had its way of leaving the air around them brimming with dreamy languor. The wintry radiance of Pegasus Moon bathed them in a luminous pallor, leaving the free-floating dust aglow. The mood of it all stopped Edelgard’s thoughts in their track, cutting off whatever word of self-doubt she had at the tip of her tongue.

“It’s funny you say that,” she started again, her tone lilting with another sentimental bout of retrospect, “because whenever I come here, I think back to the last time I felt happy.” She turned her attention back to Byleth, looking up with the fullness of her eyes. “Or, dare I say it,” she added with a chuckle, “ _we_ were all happy.”

‘We’ could have referred to anyone. Byleth, however, culled whatever foolish fancy that the word was in any way meant to be exclusive to _them_.

“Do you remember that night, Professor?” Edelgard’s tone piped up. Her face brightened with the sudden recollection. “The night of the ball?”

“Of course I do,” Byleth answered, her voice falling to a half-whisper.

Her reply was encouraging, prompting Edelgard to smile to herself in absentminded glee. “We met at the Goddess’s Tower.” She sighed wistfully, relishing in her fond remembrance. “It seems so long ago now…”

For her part, Byleth stifled the impulse to joke about how the memory was a little less distant for _her_ – what, with her sudden disappearance and five-year slumber. But the nearness of it all made her grip Edelgard’s hands a little tighter, content with the small yet nevertheless heart-tugging excitement at seeing the other woman beam with muted joy.

“You told me many things back then,” she joined in. “Like your _first love_.” Byleth leered at her, placing facetious emphasis on the final two words.

“Professor!” she interrupted with a deep blush. “I’d rather you never mention a word of that again,” she added more curtly.

“Why not?” Byleth asked, her tone ringing with genuine curiosity. “I like knowing these things about you.”

“And yet I know absolutely nothing about _you_ ,” Edelgard countered. Despite being the victim of the other’s incessant mocking, Edelgard couldn’t help but share in her laughter. “Not even _your_ first love!” she added, her tone airy with mischief.

The gesture wasn’t without its own success, for in reliving their past, something changed in the present. Faint from the strange thrumming in her chest, Byleth felt something in her foot give way, before quickly stopping herself by shifting her weight.

“Professor?” Edelgard’s tone rang with concern. Her lips curled to an ample pout as she caught the abrupt change in Byleth’s countenance. “Is it something I said?”

“Back then, when you asked me that question,” she paused to swallow the wad of air stuck in her throat. Her cheeks went flush with newfound awareness of their proximity, and the confusion it all could only knot tighter in her chest. “I said that there was no one.”

To that, Edelgard couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, I remember,” she said, eyelashes fluttering bashfully. “I tried so hard to embarrass you then.”

But Byleth didn’t share in her bemusement. Instead, she remained in a curious and tightlipped silence, and her eyes deadened to an absentminded yet piercing gaze.

“I-…”

Byleth bit back part of the answer, afraid of losing herself in the terror creeping in from the back of her mind. She didn’t quite know why her heart thrashed so unevenly against her chest; or why her breath quickened with the seconds that passed with her silence. For the truth was that, five years ago, she indeed had ‘no such stories to tell.’ But looking at Edelgard at that moment – watching with a certain breathlessness at the way the moon shone on the crown of her silver head; how, despite her dauntless exterior, Edelgard bore an earnestness in her eyes that spoke of refreshing innocence, one which weathered the years unscathed… Byleth couldn’t help feel a new and strange terror that, _maybe_ , her answer might have changed.

And she was afraid - afraid that her answer would be unrequited.

For her part, Edelgard trembled beneath the crushing weight of suspense. Eager for some sort of relief from the now tense and stifling atmosphere, she succumbed to whim and resolved instead to somehow urge away Byleth’s uncharacteristic reticence.

“Professor,” Edelgard blurted out, “may I confess something?”

The question snapped Byleth out of her bewilderment. For once, her stuffy bout of ineloquence came in handy and left her with nothing save the thoughtless need to nod amidst her confusion.

Edelgard gulped inaudibly. With Byleth’s attention seized, she now found herself in the proverbial spotlight. Until that point, there was actually nothing to confess, but something in the air made her give in to the thoughtless impulse. Perhaps it was mere fancy, or perhaps she actually found herself unable to watch as Byleth – her lifelong mentor and friend – struggled at _something_. Regardless, Edelgard had already taken the leap. All she needed was to have a little faith.

“For a moment,” she started up, her heart racing against the mix of dread and anticipation welling like a pit in her stomach, “just for a single moment…” Edelgard’s words whispered down to a hush. Her eyes shyly darted to the tip of Byleth’s boots, staring aimlessly at a sliver of reflected moonlight against the leather fabric. “I would like to be that girl again.”

Byleth’s lips parted for an answer. “El-”

“A girl who can laugh, talk of ‘first loves,’ and dance…” Edelgard punctuated her words with lilting laughter. “We never had that dance, did we?”

The question was rhetorical but nevertheless heartfelt. Edelgard tried to keep her smile, but it was strained with the apprehension knitted in her brows. “Dance with me, professor,” she pleaded. “Dance with me, and let me be that girl again.”

“Dance?!” Byleth uttered the word incredulously. Dancing was the furthest thing she expected Edelgard to have had in mind. “But I-… El, you know I haven’t danced since that night, right?”

For a breathless moment, Edelgard gawked at Byleth. Her heart palpitated with the sway of her emotions as puzzlement gave way to disbelief. “You’re joking!”

“I am not,” Byleth deadpanned – albeit still a little confused.

Edelgard’s hand fanned over her mouth, afraid to appear so rude. She took the moment to stifle the remains of her giggling fit. With a sigh of relief, she started again. “I guess that makes two of us,” she said, still smiling.

The truth was that Edelgard was expecting something else too. Or more accurately, she was expecting _anything_ – rejection, skepticism, or (more in line with Byleth’s habits) probing questions that dug deep into the heart of the matter. What she got instead was something more – something _better_.

For her part, Byleth found Edelgard’s… _amusement_ with the whole ordeal rather infectious. She too started to laugh along, relaxing her shoulders so they slouched with the whimsical mood. “Well? Are we going to just… stand here?”

“First, we need an orchestra,” Edelgard sarcastically suggested.

“ _Pfft_ ,” Byleth sucked in her teeth. She rolled her eyes before grabbing her now unwitting dance partner by the hand. “We don’t need _that_.” She took the Edelgard’s wrist – lithe and frail in her palm – and perched it atop her shoulder. She then laid a hand on her partner’s waist, reddening at the feel of her firm yet supple curve.

“We can’t dance to silence!”

“It’s not silence,” Byleth retorted in a less-than-confident murmur. “Here, close your eyes.”

Before Edelgard could argue any further, Byleth pulled her small-statured emperor into a swing. One step into the right, and she led her partner into a circle. A certain bounce in their steps made the whole affair unexpectedly awkward. Edelgard was even tempted to utter an incoherent word or two of protest, but by the time they fell in with a synchronized beat, Byleth managed to hush her with her crude yet soft melodic humming.

“Professor – are you… singing?!”

 _Humming_ , more accurately, or so Byleth wanted to say, but she devoted much of her concentration instead to keeping in rhythm with their steps. _“La-dee- duh, la-dee duh duh…”_ she mumbled musically as the two fumbled – albeit playfully – in their waltz.

 _Fine_ , Edelgard thought with a sigh before closing her eyes (as she was told) and following Byleth’s lead.

Indeed, she could finally picture it: the warm glow of countless chandeliers, the clamoring chatter of distant onlookers, and the twirl of dresses and steps as the dancers floated through the hall with light, ethereal steps. Upon the hummed song’s coda, Byleth lifted Edelgard by the waist, jumping through their barely remembered choreography. It took all of Edelgard’s self-control to suppress a squeal, settling instead for a hiccup as her feet flailed with suspended flair.

Then, when the music in their ears swelled to its final cadence, Byleth slowed their pace. The waltz waned with the imagined fanfare, and their feet soon settled into smaller strides until they found themselves swaying in place. Edelgard’s hands found their way back to their prior positions, opening her eyes to the teal glimmer in Byleth’s gaze.

This time, their gentle lingering movements gave way to low wavering beats. With a sigh, Edelgard closed her eyes and timidly perched her chin close to Byleth’s collarbone.

For a while the two danced. The humming that accompanied their intimate choreography subsided, but the tune nevertheless seemed to persist in the spectral echo of their steps.

“El?” Byleth asked once more, thankful that the darkening horizon shadowed over her scarlet complexion.

“Y-yes?”

The darkness surrounding them started to weigh on Byleth, whose eyelids fluttered to a gentle close as Edelgard looked up at her once more. But the air around them was thick with the tiring work of reminiscing. The words stopped at the base of her throat, swelling instead into a wistful exhalation as Byleth tried once again for her answer.

Edelgard, for her part, yearned for _some_ relief from the growing tension, opting to bridge what remaining gap there was between them. It was as if the world outside had vanished, leaving them in the magnetizing pull of each other’s arms as they lost themselves in their tender gaze. By the time Edelgard was aware how close they were - with Byleth's breaths whispering softly to the curve of her cheek, she was already tracing the corner of her mouth, where it opened to the feathery softness of her lips.

For a moment lost in time, they kissed – gently and briefly.

It was Byleth who tried to break away at first, startled by her own hitched breathing. Yet when she felt the slight and tentative tug of Edelgard’s hand – clutching through the fabric of her sleeve – she couldn’t help but yield. What must have been a momentary respite settled into something more inviting, and before long, Byleth leaned her head to the side, deepening the kiss where El parted her mouth for more.

 _El,_ she wanted to say, _I think I have my first love_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my self-indulgent ficlet. I really love Edeleth and hope to improve as a writer. As such, I would greatly appreciate any feedback you might have. Thank you again dear reader! Feel free to follow me on twitter: @LadyBergamotx


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